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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354451">The Empty Night Sky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DOEYES/pseuds/DOEYES'>DOEYES</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, let me write about the elf romance in peace, sorry god</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:09:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DOEYES/pseuds/DOEYES</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly before the events of the Battle of Red Mountain, Voryn is able to confront Nerevar and discuss their recently decaying relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dagoth Ur/Indoril Nerevar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Empty Night Sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Howdy! It has been a while since I wrote a fic. So, consider this me getting back into the swing of things. I tried really hard to attempt to balance the prose of Morrowind's texts with my own style. I guess we'll see where it goes. Thanks to all my friends who I've been torturing by endlessly talking about this game during quarantine for putting up with my bullshit. Please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“The incense is running low, now, you know?” The shrine was awash in the scent of black anther flowers that the smoke had danced throughout the air. It poured in long plumes from the hanging gold burners. So heavy was the smoke that it filled Voryns lungs and he nearly choked upon the air. Nevar’s face was soaked in shadow, broken only by the dim glow of candles and lamplight. Yet Voryn’s outline caught, illuminated in the glow glittering off his well-decorated face. Flawless rubies dotted his cheeks, as though they were tears. Such extravagance was the cardinal sin of House Dagoth. He dressed in fine silks and Argonian leather adorned himself with jewels and gold upon his ears. And for it all he was the chic and slender Dagoth Voryn, who himself glittered like his pristine gemstones. Even among his house he was distinguished for that opulence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is it I always know to find you hear, Nerevar?” Here among the dense smoke, at Azura’s feet. Surrounded by the offerings of pilgrims, long dead flowers, a litany of gold and silver coins, and before her lay a rusting great sword.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nerevar sighed, long and soft, his figure kneeling stoic, hands spread before him, eyes shut, “It would do you good to pray. It wouldn’t kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn’s lips spread into a long grin, “And I will be sure to relay that to Vivec who would lecture me otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nerevar's golden hard face finally cracked into a delicate smile. He laughed. He laughs like the gentle sound of a bell, <em>“Oh, I’m sure.”</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How long had it been since the last time he had seen Nerevar smile? Whether it was recent or long ago, Voryn decided it had still been too long a stint. But they both knew there was no brevity in war. As soon as the moment had come it was dashed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You <em>must</em> speak with your council.” Very spoke, suddenly. “There’s little time before the Dwemeri—“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I am ready.” Nevar's voice filled the room, it sounded with a brassy sternness. After that great sound, there fell a shroud of silence. Nerevar’s face twisted uneasily, it looked tragically pained. “You know well, I must pray.” His voice than the softest of whispers. He tore his eyes from Voryn, lids closing serenely. Back to his Deadra, offerings, and other playthings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps Voryn had spoken too quickly, but he would rather this than the pretense of joviality moments ago. He knelt beside him, careful of his fine clothing and draperies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nerevar, sweet Nerevar,” A hand, long nails painted crimson pushed away his silver braids, running his hand across his golden cheek. “the world can not wait for Azura to hear you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nerevar stiffened beneath his touch for a moment, and then settled into the touch, his features softening again. Voryn admired the beauty of him, scarred, ashen haired, his cheeks sun-scorched and freckled. Body bespeckled with protruding shards of metal piercings, they lined his ears, his cheek. One great hoop at his nose became a long chain that spanned to his ear. The golden chain lying across his jaw bone, they shone dully in the candle light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust in your advisors, they only mean you well. Put an end to this ceaseless squabbling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again he stiffened, “Do they?” Nerevar’s voice drifted, horsely. His eyes stared off into the stone eyes of the statue of Azura. Her face responded with nothing but cold stillness. “Some days I wonder who is worthy of trust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn withdrew his touch, swiftly, “Yes, they do. Why do you ignore them? You put too much trust in the likes of Sul.” It was a lie to say he had not doubted all of them, that he had not watched them with the stern eyes of a cliff reaver, listened to their whispers. But what use was revealing that at a time like this? There was no point in stirring Nerevar’s suspicion. And of Sul… A good boy, Sul, friendly, was but nevertheless a radicalized youth, bound to his forgotten Ashland ways of old. Besides, he and Nerevar spent too much time together behind closed doors and the thought of that filled Voryn’s mouth with the sickening taste of envy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All I’ve done is trust foolishly. I misplaced my trust in Dumac, I wasn’t ready to see him from what he was. You do not know the Alandro boy well enough, for I’ve seen the goodness of his heart.” As he spoke he remained as still as the statue he knelt across from and Voryn folded his hands in his lap as he listened. The corners of his lips produced a sheepish smile, “You’re too hard on yourself. It pains me to see you so, moon and star.” The other said nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn thought to bite his tongue but still he spoke, “Do you really believe these Ashland fables? He claims to be the son of Azura. It is absurdity, madness.” The voice of Voryn echoed off the walls. He was louder than he’d intended. He looked at the face of Nerevar for some kind of response but found none. For he remained as still. “Don’t tell me it's true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> For a moment Voryn fumbled for speech. He reached out to one of Nerevar’s outstretched hands upon the altar, fingers grasping at his, “Nerevar, the sky is dark without you. If only you knew how I long to see my dear friend again. How I miss bathing in your moonlight.” Led the other’s hand towards his studded cheek and for a moment, it looked truly as if he’d cried shimmering, ruby tears. That they would fall, warm and wet against Nerevar’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Voryn,” He sighed, heavily, his chest caving. “the answer is no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt his heart plummet into his stomach, the cold hand of nerves seized him, its touch like ice, in contrast to the endless Ashland heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn’s tall figure sulked, caving in on itself, crumbling. He released a low, limp whisper, “I asked nothing, Hortator…” No, it was something, something foolish of him. Best not bring up forgotten feelings, even if they hang in the air as heavy as the incense. He ought to suppress it as he would a cough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need not say anything, I know what it is you ask for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-“ He caught himself, before saying something regrettable, ready to climb up his throat. He swallowed the urge. “Lord, I am sorry for my brazenness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You needn’t call me by my title as if it makes me think any less of you. It is only because I can not give you what you want.” Finally his hands fell back to his sides. Hadn’t it hurt to hold them up so long? “But you are right about one thing.” He began with a sudden steadiness to his voice once again. The voice of the great Hortator now speaks. “A ruler needs his council and to them I must go.” He began to rise. “Should you stay among the smoke I think you would find Azura’s warmth to be kinder than you had imagined” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn glanced back at the stony face above them. Among the wisps of incense she was a menacing figure, tall and patronizing, her eyes cold. He doubted he could ever learn to love it as Nerevar did. How do you love such a distant parent? Although he did not loathe the goddess, as some of his notable peers, Voryn could not find the point in the endless ritual of worship she demanded. His loyalty more so lied with the land of Resdayn, with his house, with Nerevar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn found himself grasping at the golden figure as it rose, without thought. Only moving on a sudden emotion. His decorated hands wrapping themselves around his arm, “Moon and star, would you spend just another moment at my side? Then off to your advisors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself suddenly pinned beneath the Hortator's sharp gaze. <em>“He does have a king's eyes,”</em> Voryn thought. <em>“warm yet stern at the same time.”</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nerevar stood for a moment, contemplating the offer, his always somber face, somehow attaining a more serious tone. His eyes looked towards the open archway to the Ashland’s, then back to Voryn’s kneeling figure, “I’ve only a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, my sweet Muthsera, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chest deflated then, exhaling a frustrated puff of air from pouting lips, “I’ve told you, none of this. Call me by my name. Speak to me as you would a f’lah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking again before he thinks, “Are you not my f’lah?” Damn the shadow, the cloak and dagger of it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nerevar’s brow furrowed as if stunned by the question, “Of course.” It is without hesitation. “It’s you who does not treat me as such. I sometimes wish you would give me anything but this respect, as you once did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words rendered poor Voryn speechless. He glanced away, distracting himself with a long dangling piece of ebony hair, toying with it, his bronze fingers raking the strands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see, Nerevar,” He murmured, plainly. “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn took pause, eyes plastered to the floor, fingers still curling and brushing endlessly. “Than sit with me as a friend, as we both wish it to be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, the Hortator sat, humble before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was easier before, Nerevar. The longing I feel for those days… Whatever we were died beside the First council.” It pained him to say it, but they both knew it to be true. “I can not will things to be what they were, but let me dream of it from time to time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I owe you that much.” The warm touch of a hand took Voryn’s chin. His gaze followed its lead back to the other's sun-kissed face. The Hortator lead a gentle thumb across Voryn’s pillowed lips, savoring the touch of it beneath him. With sudden swiftness, Nerevar pulled the other towards his lips. The touch of it was warm, the feeling of it plush. Yet still the skin was rough, as the gruff texture of a soft, fine-grain desert sand is. Against him his skin smelled of the ashen desert outside, the bitter scent of Resdayn itself. Of course, how could he feel, how could he have been any other way? Somehow it seemed he knew it already. That he knew every spot and patch upon those golden cheeks. It felt as if Voryn’s breath had been torn from him at first, stripped from his very lungs. The shock of it all fell away quickly into a feeling of something more complete. Oh yes, he had been meant to live amongst that night sky with him. Though lingering, the moment passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” Nerevar spoke, “something for you to dream on.” Between them was one brief silent moment of intimacy, seconds after pulling slightly apart. The touch of the other's breath brushing upon their faces. Had he seen a smirk upon his lips? Over as soon as it began. “But now I must go.” With that he stood, finally, dusting off his armor. He found the glittering helmet by his feet. Dully moving about his business in readiness to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Voryn struggled to regain the air that was lost. Nerevar had always had that endless level-headedness. How he kept himself so restrained he could never answer. His hand found itself against his ribs, finding that behind them his heart was flailing against them wildly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still breathless,<em> “Yes,</em> I suppose you should.”</span>
</p>
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